


Sickening

by IvoryRaven



Series: Tomarry/Harrymort one-shots [29]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coronavirus, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Sick Harry Potter, Sickfic, Tom Riddle is a Hypochondriac, Tom Riddle is a Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoryRaven/pseuds/IvoryRaven
Summary: Harry's come down with something and Tom is worried.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Tomarry/Harrymort one-shots [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684411
Comments: 2
Kudos: 174





	Sickening

Harry stumbled into the living room and leaned against the doorway, his hair tousled and his cheeks oddly flushed. “G’morning,” he said, his voice rougher than it usually was.

Tom knew something was wrong immediately. Harry never looked this tired in the morning.

He set his cup of tea and newspaper down, hurrying over to his husband. “Harry? What is it?”

“Nothing,” said Harry. Tom knew it was a lie, and knew Harry knew that too.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, pulling his husband into a hug.

Harry slumped against him. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I have a cold, that’s all.”

Tom frowned. “Are you sure? I’ve been reading about this virus that’s affecting Muggles, and you did go to that Quidditch game, even when I told you you shouldn’t…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Tom. I play Seeker. I have to go to Quidditch matches. Calm down, I’m fine.”

“You are most certainly not fine,” said Tom. “I should have canceled that match, I knew it. You have to get tested!”

“I do not!” Harry protested. “I’m fine, stop fussing!” He forced Tom’s arms off him and made his way to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of orange juice. He poured some into a glass, then put the bottle into the cupboard the glasses lived in.

“Harry?” Tom pulled the orange juice bottle out and returned it to its proper place in the fridge.

“What?” Harry gulped down a mouthful of orange juice.

“...never mind.” Tom returned to his tea and picked his paper back up.

The virus was in the Muggle paper again. Recently, it had been in the paper every day, and Tom had been following it with obsessive curiosity and worry.

The Muggle Prime Minister didn’t even want to meet with Tom in person! Not that Tom minded that now, apparently the Prime Minister had come down with the virus, but back then when he’d been trying to meet the Prime Minister, it had been annoying.

Muggles were annoying. If only Harry would let Tom destroy them.

But no. Harry had much preferred Tom’s plan of becoming Minister of Magic to his plan of heading a terrorist organization and cowing the wizarding world into submission, then killing all the Muggles. Tom had become the youngest Minister in history by mostly legal means. (There had been a little bit of bribing on Tom’s behalf by Lucius Malfoy that Harry didn’t need to know about, but most of it had been done fairly and legally.)

Harry coughed.

“Harry,” said Tom, eyeing the twin red spots on his husband’s cheeks and unnaturally bright eyes. “Please get tested?”

Harry set his empty glass by the sink. “I’m fine.” he said shortly.

Tom crossed the room to his side and felt his forehead. Harry was burning up. “You’re not fine. Come to bed.”

Harry looked away. “I don’t want to.”

“I want you to,” said Tom. “Do it for me. Please?”

Harry chewed on his lip for a minute. “If you stay with me,” he agreed at last.

Tom held back a sigh of relief. That was a sacrifice he was willing to make. “I’ll stay with you,” he said. It would mean giving up some things he could be doing at work, but Harry was more important.

He guided Harry back to their room and tucked him into bed. He was just leaving the room to collect a book from the living room bookshelf when he heard Harry’s pitiful voice.

“You said you would stay!”

“I will stay.” he promised. “I’m just getting a book.”

When he returned, a few minutes later, with the mentioned book under his arm, Harry was sniffling under the covers.

“Harry!” Tom pulled the duvet back, revealing Harry on his side in the fetal position, crying quietly into a pillow. This was unusual, Harry was normally more stoic than this. Something was definitely very wrong.

Harry looked up. “I th-thought you w-were gone.”

Tom climbed into bed beside Harry and pulled his husband to his chest. “I would never leave you,” he promised, kissing Harry’s too-warm forehead. “Never. ‘In sickness and in health,’ remember? I meant it. I meant everything.”

Harry pressed his head into Tom’s chest. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he said.

He’d never meant anything more than he meant that.


End file.
